


Matched Set

by tyrsdayschild



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, LMAO, M/M, Oral Sex, Strap-Ons, dangerously close to normie sex for me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 06:27:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14994812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tyrsdayschild/pseuds/tyrsdayschild
Summary: "Hmm," Connor said, considering his options. "I can't decide- which do you like, Hank?""I like the cold embrace of the grave," Hank said, looking at the dimpled ceiling tiles, mortified. Connor gave an exaggerated huff."You're such a millennial," he said, and returned the dildo he'd been looking at to the shelf.





	Matched Set

"Hmm," Connor said, considering his options. "I can't decide- which do you like, Hank?"

"I like the cold embrace of the grave," Hank said, looking at the dimpled ceiling tiles, mortified. Connor gave an exaggerated huff.

"You're such a millennial," he said, and returned the dildo he'd been looking at to the shelf. "Really, I don't know why you expect me to make this decision without feedback from you. So far the only parameter you've given me is 'no furry shit' which really, Hank, doesn't seem terribly relevant given all of our options appear to be made of medical grade silicon rather than fur, faux or otherwise-"

"That's not what that- how can you not get that phrase, isn't your brain connected to wi-fi twenty-four fucking sev- oh, you piece of shit. You're fucking with me, aren't you?"

Connor gave a smug little smile. "You're very easy to rile up. Now, what's your preferred depth of penetration?"

"What's my- _look_ , already," Hank's voice raised to nearly a shout, then suddenly dropped to a hissed whisper. "You don't just _ask_ things like that, and it's not like I'm some sort of- I don't know, _size queen_ or something. I just took whatever the guy was packing and I didn't ask a lot of questions about _inches_ or _circumference_ or what the _fuck_ ever!"

Connor went very still. His LED was flashing in that way that suggested his neutral expression was anything but.

"If you don't want to have this type of penetrative sex with me, we can leave," Connor said, "I'm perfectly content with what we can do right now."

'What they could do right now' consisted of blowjobs, handjobs, and frotting, in more variations than Hank had thought possible. If he hadn't been the one initiating half of them, he would've accused Connor of googling weird shit on the internet, or reading old forums for the fucked-up kind of 'droid-fuckers. But Connor had gotten especially 'pokey' recently, and very keen on exploring Hank's body, watching his reactions. Somehow Hank had known a scene like this would come up, though he had prayed that Connor would just order something off of Amazon, like God intended!

"Look, Connor," he said, "Stop thinking about me for a second. Do _you_ want to- uh, do _that_ to me?"

Connor looked at him thoughtfully. His LED began cycling, lazy circles at first that sped up, and up, moving from cyan to green to yellow-

"Okay, snap the fuck out of it," Hank said, snapping his fingers twice in Connor's face, causing him to blink and refocus his eyes. "The fuck was that?"

"My apologies," Connor said, "I got caught up in a simulation for a moment there." Hank stared at him incredulously, face flushing.

"We are in _public_!" he hissed.

"Mm. Yes," Connor agreed.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Hank swore. First they get sentience, then they get _kinks_. Fucking deviants. "Okay, horny boy, now just pick the closest dick to the one you were fantasizing about and let's get out of here!"

"You don't understand!" Connor said, sounding genuinely upset. "I know what _I_ enjoy about _your_ penis, but I don't know if _you'd_ enjoy those things about _mine_ and you're giving me no helpful parameters!"

Hank took a second to gather himself.

"Okay," he said, "Give me your parameters, and I'll tell you."

Connor shot him a look.

"Your foreskin generates a pleasing tactile sensation," he said, in a dry recitative tone that would probably be a mumble if he was human. "I also enjoy the way your vein feels on my tongue. You have- very- interesting micromuscular movements and I- I like the way you f-fit inside my mouth."

Hank blinked. He loved Connor, but it was moments like these that reminded him 'person' was not the same as 'human.' He took his partner's hand, and raised it up between them. He focused on their joined hands, not sure he could say this next part if he made eye contact.

"No wider than this," Hank said, pressing Connor's three middle fingers together, then traced his thumb down the length of his hand, from the tip of his spidery middle finger to the base of his palm, "And about that long. No need to get fancy with the tactile sensations, just- ugh. Pick whatever you want and remember that I love you and that means I'll love every part of you, and shit. Surprise me. I'll be in the car." Hank dropped Connor's hand and hurried out of the sex shop, slapping the flush from his cheeks and already regretting the sappy shit the kid had tricked him into saying again.

It was an interminable fifteen minutes until Connor came back to the car, carrying a discrete looking plastic bag.

"Thank you for coming with me," Connor said after he had settled himself in the passenger seat. "I'm grateful for your support."

"'s all in the job description," Hank mumbled, starting the car. "Now don't talk about anything at all, _especially_ whatever's in the bag, for the next twenty minutes, unless you're just dying for me to crash the car."

"Of course, Lieutenant," Connor said cheerfully, and turned on the stereo.

\---

"Well? What do you think?" Connor demanded as Hank stepped out of the shower. Hank startled so bad he damn near tripped.

"Jesus, kid, I'm gonna put a _bell_ on you-" he swore, and then his mouth went a little dry.

Connor was dressed in a pair of black boyshorts, not unlike the boxer briefs he typically wore under his clothes, but these were clearly meant for use with strap-ons. The cock hanging from it was limp, and a little slimmer than Hank's parameters. It looked cut, and had a realistic paint job, just a shade pinker than Connor's pseudo-skin tone, and it gave Hank flashbacks to the unit his old college boyfriend Riley had purchased after he transitioned.

"What do you think?" Connor asked, still standing far too close for Hank to possibly expected to think straight.

"Yeah, good choice," Hank said, "But doesn't it need to be- fuck!"

Connor had reached down and pressed something near the base and it suddenly jutted out, pressing against the meat of Hank's thigh. Riley's dick sure as hell hadn't done _that_.

"I'm glad you like it," Connor said, and stepped closer still, pressing their cocks together, and Hank shivered. Connor's strap-on was cool, especially compared to the fever-hot touch of his lips as they kissed. Connor rested his hand's on Hank's hips gently pushed and guided him towards the wall, backing him up against it. Connor's legs bracketed Hank's, squeezing his still-wet thighs together as he slipped his cock between them, the reverse of the position they had so often taken in the past. Hank's own dick was trapped between their bellies and rapidly coming to attention.

Hank cursed again, words swallowed up by Connor's lips, and he buried his fingers in Connor's wiry hair. Connor let out an appreciative little hum as Hank scratched his scalp, one that repeated and deepened as Hank's tongue traced long strokes across the roof of his mouth in time with Connor's thrusts between his legs. Hank still didn't quite know what the hell Connor got out of screwing an old fuck like him- the android couldn't really feel pleasure or pain, but he felt _something_ , and Hank tried to make sure he felt as much as possible. So far, Connor hadn't been complaining.

Connor traced his hands up and down Hank's side, blunt finger tips lightly scratching his side, half-way between tickling and pain. Hank grunted, thighs tightening involuntarily and he bucked up against the smooth plane of Connor's belly. He dropped his right hand to cup Connor's jaw, his left hand going to his shoulder and pushing him away, breaking the kiss.

"I see why you like this so much," Connor said in a husky murmur. Did he really? Hank wondered, panting a little. The drag of the rubber cock between his thighs was beginning to burn a little as the water dripped from his body to the floor.

"Come on," Hank said, "Lemme dry off and we'll get to bed. You're gonna make an old man slip on the tiles and break his damn neck, and then where will we be?"

Getting Connor, more limpet like than typical, off him long enough to towel off and navigate out of the bathroom, across the hall, and to the bedroom, was a challenge and a half. And of course, no sooner had they gotten themselves in, Sumo out, and the door closed, then Connor had picked up Hank with that incongruous strength of his and carried him the three steps to the bed, dumping Hank unceremoniously on his back on the mattress.

"You plastic brat," Hank griped fondly, pushing himself up as Connor rifled through his bedside table, "I oughta-"

The bed dipping as Connor knelt down on the end of the bed was about all the warning he got before Connor had slid back between his legs, knees over the android's shoulders, and sucked his cock into his mouth.

"Kid- Jesus-" Hank shut his eyes and thought very hard about basketball statistics as Connor pressed a lube slick finger into him. "Connor, you're gonna need to hurry it up there or this show's gonna be over sooner than you'd like."

Connor pulled his mouth off Hank's dick with a lewd pop.

"I'll think you'll find I can fuck you regardless of the presence or absence of an erection," Connor said, and _Christ_ what wires had crossed in Hank's head he found these prissy little threats hot, "But nevertheless I'll endeavor to 'speed up' in accordance with your request." His middle finger slipped out of his ass, and Hank shivered, hearing the lube cap pop open, then he yelped as Connor suddenly pressed three fingers in at once.

"Oh, _fuck you_ -" Hank grunted, squeezing his eyes shut and digging his heels into the hard blades of Connor's shoulders. The best-worst part was that Connor had outgrown his first naive finger jabs, and now knew exactly what he was doing. Even without the wet heat of Connor's mouth on him, Hank had to think about good and hard about Isaiah Keeling's free-throw percentage. He reached down and tried to grab Connor, tugging fruitlessly at his hair, his cheek, his ear. "Come on, come on, Conn, I'm ready," he said. Connor sat up properly and leaned over, looming over Hank, fingers curling so sweetly inside him as he practically jack-knifed the man. "Fuck!" Hank swore and managed to kick his legs off of Connor's shoulders so they rested on either side of his partner's hips. "You're gonna break me," Hank snapped.

Connor gave him that strange little smile and overly deliberate wink as he slowly pulled his fingers out of him. Hank shivered in anticipation. Connor tore open a condom and reached down to roll it on. He leaned over, kissing Hank again, one hand reaching up to lace fingers with Hank and the other-

Hank breathed in sharply as the head of Connor's cock entered him. One inch, then another, and then Connor paused for a long moment, his other hand coming up to entwine with Hank's as Hank gripped him so hard he was surprised he hadn't dented the plate of his palm.

"Okay Connor," Hank said, "You're doing great, just, keep going, keep- _fuck_!"

Connor kept going, so slowly Hank thought he'd lose his mind. He pressed in, deeper and gentler than Hank had felt in years, and then he started rocking, slow, steady, _metronomic_ rolls of his hips. You could set your goddamn _watch_ by it, and Hank thought his dick was going to explode, trapped between his stomach and Connor's as the android pressed every inch of their torsos together he could.

Connor didn't breath, but he did have chemical sensors in his nose. Fortunately Hank had a couple dozen sexual encounters to rewire his brain that sniffing and- oh, fuck, he shivered- _licking_ were hot rather than fucking disgusting.

"Connor, _please_ ," Hank said. Connor pulled back from lapping at a bead of sweat along his forehead, his eyes wide and recording everything.

"You're so beautiful, Hank," Connor said quietly.

"What are you- tell me- what are you thinking?" Hank panted. Connor's lips were half-parted, and Hank could feel his thirium pump vibrating against his chest. His gaze had that slightly unfocused look he got when analyzing.

"I'm thinking about you inside me," Connor said, "You're making love to me right now. You feel so _good_ , Hank."

"Yeah- yeah- _fuck_ -" Hank panted, and Connor sped up ever so minutely.

"How do I feel Hank? What does it feel like to be inside me?"

"You feel- I feel- it's perfect, just Connor, please!" Hank rocked back against Connor's dick, grinding his own cock up against Connor's hard stomach, the pressure drawing up behind his balls too much to stand.

"Touch me, Hank, please, I need you," Connor said, in a perfect mimicry of Hank's desperate inflection. Hank felt so goddamn turned around he didn't know who was who anymore as he wrenched his right hand from Connor's grip and reached between them, jerking off furiously as Connor peppered butterfly kisses to his cheeks and lips before pulling back far enough to watch, wide eyed, as Hank came, hot semen spreading across his stomach.

"How do you do this shit to me?" Hank asked, breathless. Connor pushed himself up so he was kneeling between Hank's legs. He traced a finger behind Hank's balls, just above where they were joined, and Hank shivered.

"I do it with great enthusiasm, Lieutenant," Connor said, and Hank felt the dildo inside him go soft, though Connor didn't yet pull out. "How do you feel?" Connor asked. Hank patted Connor's thigh, as if gentling a horse.

"C'mon, kid," he said, "We've got about three minutes of pillow talk till the endorphins knock me the fuck out." Connor smiled, and Hank closed his eyes as he pulled out. He felt Connor get off the bed and he opened his eyes again, watching him throw the condom in the bedside trash and grab a handful of tissues from the table, setting the lube on it. "What did you put a rubber on your rubber for, anyways?" Hank asked.

"It's more sanitary," Connor says, "And saves time cleaning." He slid his shorts off, letting it and the dildo lie on the ground, and he turned back to Hank. Hank let his gaze fall over Connor's unnaturally smooth frame- no hair, no scars, no freckles or moles, no nipples or navel. Barely any muscle definition, just clean lines, a thin layer of synthetic skin covering protective plastic plating. "What are you thinking, Lieutenant?" Connor asked. He sat on the bed, wiping the tissues against Hank's stomach.

"Did you actually feel any of that?" Hank asked, and grimaced as he realized how that sounded. Connor wadded up the tissues and tossed them, and Hank didn't have to look to know they'd gone in the basket. "Sorry, sorry, don't answer that, I'm an idiot," he said, grabbing at Connor's waist and pulling the naked android down into bed with him, rolling onto his side and squirming to make room for him.

"I may not have felt the sensations you were thinking of," Connor said, "But I felt quite a lot, and as for the rest, I have one of the most advanced analytical computers ever produced-"

"-which is cyber-jackass for 'vivid imagination', huh?" Hank asked. Connor smiled.

"Precisely."

There was a long moment of silence, as Hank's breathing evened out, then he felt Connor squirming, trying to get out of his embrace.

"Uh-uh," Hank said, tugging him closer.

"Hank, the lights," Connor said.

"Fuck 'em."

"This is terrible for your circadian rhythm."

"Fuck it."

Connor made an exaggerated huff and started squirming against Hank's grasp, managing to half sit up and awkwardly drag the blanket over them. "Just until you fall asleep," he said, settling down besides Hank. Hank yawned, and pressed his forehead against Connor's.

"As long as you want," he mumbled sleepily, and somewhere, between one breath and the next, he was gone.


End file.
